The Greatest of All The French Chicks
by Invader Vega
Summary: The magical and vaguely frightening story of absolutely nothing in particular, which includes the love story of Raoul and his dollar. Painful, searing EC. RaoulDollar. MegTorgo? DON'T SUE ME!
1. An Uncreative Chapter Title

Raoul was not there.

Christine found this odd, seeing as in these sorts of fics, Raoul was always present. Sometimes he was an abusive husband, sometimes a kidnapper, once even a rapist…but mostly, just a fop.

Now that she thought of it, it really wasn't fair to the poor boy. Raoul might be a fop (in fact, she was positive he was), but he wasn't _evil._

But she digressed.

I mean, here she was with Erik making out, and Raoul was not there to interrupt their happy, happy EC-ness. Was he late? Had he forgotten to gel his hair again? Or…perhaps she was in an ORIGINAL story?

No, no, she thought. This was Invader Vega writing. It couldn't possibly be original. This calmed her down a bit, but it didn't explain why Raoul wasn't there butting in and being…well, foppish.

Overcome with annoyance and curiosity, Christine broke the kiss.

"Where the hell is Raoul?"

Erik could do nothing but blink.

"…Christine, love, he was killed by that falling pink elephant."

"Oh. Right. Damn this short-term memory loss."

They resumed their making out, much to the joy of the poor EC phangirls who had been wandering in search of fluff. Which was extraordinarily difficult to find, mind you.

-

Then, in an original scene transition, they were eating dinner. Their "dinner" appeared to be made entirely of butter pats, but the author has been known to hallucinate.

"Guess what." Christine said cheerfully.

"Erm…you're pregnant."

Christine then got very angry with Erik for guessing, and threw a spoon at him.

"I mean you have a life-threatening illness that is going to kill you?" Erik said, looking horrified.

"No silly, I'm pregnant!" Christine said happily.

"Right, I knew that."

Tense silence.

"I'm out of lines."

"Me too," said Erik.

"Aren't you supposed to be angsting over whether or not our child will be deformed?"

"Nah, I'll do that later."

"Oh, okay. Wanna have sex?"

"Sure."

-

Meanwhile, the ghost of Raoul was flying around being spooky. He was very, very displeased.

Why? Well…he didn't quite know. But he was angry. You would be angry too if your hair was constantly limp, your girlfriend left you for a crazy murderer, you were inexplicably killed by a pink elephant, and you were constantly described as a "fop".

Hm, that Meg Giry was pretty hot.

No. Bad Raoul. He was lusting after Christi – hey, a dollar!

And thus, Raoul's scary introduction was ruined.

-

Meg didn't know why she was even in this story. She was just an innocent ballet dancer with stars in her eyes, blah blah blah…no. She was not. She was an angry, moody teenager who had no lust object, with the exception of that uber-hot Piangi.

Wait. What?

Meg blinked. Did she just refer to Piangi as hot?

She put her hands to her head, and groaned. Dammit, she hated these lucid moments.


	2. Pink Elephants and Some Mystique

disclaimer: i do not own phantom of the opera or the two characters at the end whom are dressed oddly. they belong to some fertilizer salesman in texas.

-

It was dark. But then, it usually was dark. Not much sunlight penetrated thick dungeon walls. It was common knowledge.

But whatever.

Erik yawned. He was really freaking hungry.

He got out of bed with much effort. Christine was still asleep on the other side of the rather gaudy swan bed; snoring lightly and clutching a stuffed monkey she had named "Georgie". Some women were absolutely gorgeous when they were asleep. Christine was not one of these women.

"THE HORRIBLE CLONES! MARCHING INTO THE CITY…!" she cried out in sleep. Erik blinked. Lord, she was strange sometimes.

He stumbled out of the bedroom into the kitchen, and opened the icebox. Eggs…no…bacon…a couple of cantaloupes…Piangi's severed head…some leftover steak that had green things consorting and starting a family on…

Erik grumbled. This food sucked. He turned around to go see if some food would materialize behind him, and instead settled his eyes on a giant pink elephant. Astride it was what appeared to be a dead girl dressed in a long black cape with a piece of paper taped over the right side of her face in a feeble imitation of Erik's.

"Hello, kind sir," the elephant said respectfully.

Well, that did it. Erik had seen many horrible and strange things in his lifetime, which would have driven weaker men to madness. All men reached a point when they broke. Well, he must have reached his point a while ago. Now, Erik was certain that he was truly mad.

Oh well. Best to run with it.

"Hello." Erik said nonchalantly. "May I ask why you have a dead woman dressed like me tied to your back?"

"Certainly."

"…Why do you have a dead woman dressed like me tied to your back?"

"Well you see, this young lady (my master) here happens – or happened, I should say – to be a very big fan of yours. She read a book about you…"

Erik blinked. He didn't know there was a book about him.

"…She saw the musical, she read the spin-off book by that British woman…"

Again, Erik was not aware that he was so famous.

"…And just recently she saw the movie. She was quite enamored with you, yes, quite enchanted with the magical world of EC-ness…but unfortunately she was a bit…twisted. So she had me, her faithful pet elephant Binky, climb atop the Viscount de Chagney's roof, and being of – well - considerable girth, I simply shattered the house and crushed young Raoul – poor soul…"

Erik would have snorted derisively, but he decided against it. You just don't snort derisively in front of a polite pink elephant.

"Since Raoul was now dead and Christine was now free to be with you, she inexplicably committed suicide by overdosing on headache medicine, but not before dressing herself in your image, tying herself to me, and instructing me to take her to you. She was a very strange girl," the elephant finished.

"Well…" Erik said, "I believe your story has only proved to me one thing."

"What is that, my lord?"

"The world has gone bloody mad. Absolutely incurably, frighteningly mad." Erik said, and decided to eat that bacon after all.

-

Meg was fed up.

She disliked being in a plotless world, her only purpose to serve as a love interest for the Opera Ghost, Raoul, or Andre and Firmin simultaneously. It was true that she had never heard of a world where she had banged Andre and Firmin simultaneously, but she was certain that somewhere out there, there was such a place.

Then again, maybe there wasn't. Whatever. But still.

She wanted to_ do _something. Meg wanted to be _important_. But to be important, there first needed to be a plot. Unfortunately, there currently was none.

Meg sat down on the stage, watching the other ballet dancers practice, when she witnessed something truly odd.

A man in a long black and red cloak was wandering around in the wings, followed by another man with huge knees and cloven feet. The man in the cloak had an enormous mustache and a large stick with what appeared to be a burnt hand on it. The big-kneed man wore filthy clothing with a fedora, and had only one hand surprisingly.

"Come, Torgo," the cloaked man said in barely more than a whisper. "We shall take over this pitiful place, and I shall find new wives."

"Yes, Master."

Unfortunately, their mystique was destroyed when a sandbag fell on top of the cloaked man.

"Ooof!"

Meg stood up. It appeared she had found her plot, in the guise of two Mystery Science Theater 3000 outcasts.


	3. Disturbing Romance and Table Tennis

Meg panted.

"Wait! (pantpant) Monsieurs, waiiiit!" she cried, chasing the two mysterious horrid movie characters through the wings.

"Run faster, Torgo! Faster, dammit!" the Master cried.

"bUt tHiS iS aS fAsT aS I cAn RuN!" he said in sticky caps, hobbling along at speeds of 3. Needless to say, Meg caught Torgo rather quickly, and pinned him to the ground in a manner that could be thought of as painfully sexual by people with filthy minds.

"Hello. I'm Meg. I like rollerblading, long walks on the beach, and wrestling in banana pudding with slices of strawberries in it." Meg said.

Torgo just kind of blinked at her.

It is at this point that everybody should assume that Torgo talks in sticky caps all the time, because it is really freaking annoying to type out.

"Miss, would you please let me up? I have to help my Master take over this here opera house," he said.

"Hm…nah, I'm rather enjoying being in a position of power." Meg replied coolly. This too was regarded as painfully sexual by people with filthy minds.

"So as long as you're down there, would you mind telling me about your Master's grand…master…plan to take over this here opera house? And WHY?" she said.

"Well you see, he really likes opera. All those feathery outfits, the bright colors, the high singing, the divas…" Torgo trailed off.

"Right, so he's a flaming pansy. Continue."

"His plan includes marrying all the ballet dancers and having them systematically murder every last living thing here and turn this place into a giant Valley Lodge. Angry fertilizer salesmen vandalized the last Valley Lodge, because they disliked our movie."

Meg stared.

"Anyways, much as I enjoy being pinned to the ground by a sexy, sexy woman such as yourself, I really must be off to help the Master kill everybody."

"Nah, you're coming with me." With that, Meg stood up and began dragging Torgo away. He actually went quite a big faster than usual, what with his knees and all.

-

Once again, Christine and Erik were making out. They actually did very little except make out during the day. Sometimes they played table tennis. Erik had a pretty kickass table tennis table. Once, they went on a murderous rampage throughout the streets of Los Angeles. Or maybe I'm thinking of somebody else.

Anyways.

They were making out, as was stated earlier, when Meg came running down the steps, dragging Torgo behind her. He had somehow lost his hat along the way, revealing two goat horns on his head, which were extremely unsettling.

"Hey, Christine! CHRISTINE!" she shouted. Christine's head snapped up.

"NOTHING! Nothing, nothing, nothing…no snogging or anything going on…nope," she cried. Erik sat up and looked guilty.

"There is no time for blatant EC right now, Christine." Meg stated.

"There is always time for blatant EC."

"Shut it up, you." Meg said to Christine. "You'll offend the RC shippers who came in without reading the summary."

"Sorry, RC shippers." Christine said meekly to the audience.

"I'm not."

"Be quiet, Erik."

Binky sat in a rather large stuffed chair in the corner, reading _Les Miserables_. He was a very cultured pink elephant.

"So, this pretty little satyr here says that his flaming pansy Master is going to marry all the ballet dancers and then have them kill every single person in the opera so they can create a Valley Lodge. Whatever that is." Meg explained.

"Oh. How does this affect us?" Erik asked.

"We lack a plot." Meg said for what felt like the Xtieth time.

"Right, right, that thing."

-

Raoul floated around a bit, clutching his dollar close. He was flying around, attempting to scare the chorus girls into buying him a baguette. Mmmm, complex carbohydrates. He drifted through the wings and up into the rafters when he noticed a strange little man in a cloak that gave the impression he was about to be pushed over by two large red hands. He was dragging a ballet dancer around by her hair, which was dyed a vibrant blue. Never mind the fact that blue hair dye did not exist yet.

Oh well. Not his problem.

He floated back off, presumably to find either that pink elephant who murdered him so callously or another chorus girl to hit up for bread.

-

"So, erm…Meg." Christine said slowly. They were sitting together in the bedroom with the giant swan bed.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to know if, um…"

"Yes?"

"Well, um…you and Torgo…?"

"Are we what?" Meg said blankly.

"You know…you and him…"

"…No, I don't know."

"Oh, for GOD'S SAKE, Meg!" Christine cried, leaping up. "Are you banging him?"

"Oh!" Meg laughed, almost too hard. "No, I don't bang quadrupeds."

"Meg, he walks on two legs. Granted, they are goat legs, but two legs nonetheless." Christine said, exasperated.

"Shut up Christine! Ha, ha, ha! What a silly idea! Torgo and me! SHUT UP!" Meg screeched, and then ran out of the room. Christine looked after her, and decided that Meg had inexplicably fallen in love with a satyr. That was really creepy.

-

Meanwhile, Erik and Torgo were locked in a heated game of table tennis. Torgo was winning by quite a lot.

"Curse you, satyr. I shall have my revenge." Erik grumbled angrily, as he missed yet another easy save.

"I'm sure you will."


	4. A Brief Interlude

_Hello, hello, and welcome to what will be one of the very few author's notes evAr. I plan to address some bogus issues here, which may or may not have significance. Does anybody actually read this? I don't. Well, first…_

_I don't know what Excel Saga is. O.o_

_Second, thanks to my 8 reviewers. Yes, eight. Love ya, guys._

_Third, I suppose I should explain why Erik and Christine are always making out. Well, in order to fully understand it, you need to know about The Sims 2. It's a wonderful game in which you create little people and have them live their lives in awesome houses. Well, I created Erik, Christine, Meg, Mme. Giry and Raoul and moved the former 4 into a house together which I designed (quite well, I might add) to look like the Opera Populaire. Well, knowing my EC tendencies I had Erik and Christine fall in love, and had Raoul get his ass kicked by Erik on several occasions. Sorry, Raoul fans (looks sorry). After they fell in love, Erik began acting rather oddly. His life's aspiration is to get married and have a bunch of kids (shut up! It was the best aspiration I could pick that suited him!), so he should want to get hitched to Christine and start making babies. But he never even showed interest in this. The one thing he wants ALL THE TIME is to make out with Christine. All the time. 24/7. Eventually I got him and Christine down the aisle, and now they're going to have an adorable mutant baby._

_But whatever. I'm done now._

* * *

"I've decided to compose a rock opera." 

"That's nice, dear." Christine said without looking up from her book.

"What's a rock opera?" Binky asked.

Erik was silent.

"Be quiet, you." Erik said.

"Sorry, sir." Binky said politely.

* * *

The author then forcefully tossed this scene away, and switched to another scene entirely. The scene in particular was the stage of the Opera Populaire, where the ballet dancers were practicing their little dance numbers for an opera as equally disturbing as Il Muto. The comedy sheep frolicked about the stage, eating imaginary grass and having their wool shorn off by imaginary shears. The way this was achieved was by giving the sheep gum to chew and infecting them with flesh-eating lice. 

"Hey, isn't Meg supposed to be here?" one of the dancers asked.

"Yeah, but she's out banging some satyr," another dancer responded.

"I am NOT!" Meg shrieked, appearing out of nowhere.

"Oh, hello Meg," the first dancer said merrily.

"Yes, yes, hello. What are we working on? That Don Juan thingy again?"

"It's not a thingy, Meg, it's an opera. And we are not, because when it's performed chandeliers fall and we just got that new one last week." Madame Giry said, exasperated.

"Well then, what are we performing?" Meg asked.

"We're performing that new opera about the girl who lives under an auditorium and falls in love with a random violinist. And then she kills some flutist girl. It's very popular in…um…Spain."

"But you just described a cheap ripoff of our canon, Madame Giry," said little Jammes.

"Be quiet, Jammes. Nobody likes you anyways. This one is much different. It's set to loud guitar music."

"What's a guitar?"

"SHUT UP!" Madame Giry cried. "I'm trying to be hip and topical so that the new generation of phangirls will understand the dialogue!"

There was a tense silence, minus the sounds of the dying sheep and the author's furious typing.

"Right, so what's it called?"

"It's called The Phantom of the Rock Opera."

Hysterical laughter rang out from beneath the stage.

"Christine says it's dumb, Mother." Meg said.

"Yes child, I heard her."

* * *

Meanwhile, Torgo and the Master were sewing some wedding dresses out of twine and copious bits of duct tape. Actually, Torgo was doing all the sewing, and he was doing an extremely poor job of it. 

"Faster, Torgo! Sew FASTER!" the Master yelled, whipping Torgo.

"But Master, I can't sew. At all."

"Be quiet, you! SEW! SEW! SEEEEWWW!"

"I have only one hand! It's going to take awhile!"

The Master was silent.

"SHUT UP!"

Torgo did as he was told, deciding that he rather liked his single hand and did not want to lose it like he lost the last one. He attempted pitifully to thread the needle with the twine, and then after failing duct taped it to the needle. After about a day or so (in which absolutely nothing eventful happened, minus the death of many comedy sheep and some more making out on the part of Erik and Christine), Torgo managed to finish the sleeve of one dress.

"Master, can't I go and participate in some TorgoxMeg fluff? It's disturbing to all the Meg fans!" he asked.

The Master thought this over for a bit. Well, not really a bit. The Master was very dense, so this took quite a while.

"Well…fine. You can't sew worth shit anyways."

"Woohoo!" Torgo cried.

* * *

Fortunately, the MegxTorgo fluff did not take place. Instead, the ghost of Raoul floated around some more with his new girlfriend, the ghost of Mary Jane Watson. She had been killed long ago by an angry Tobey Maguire fangirl who couldn't spell. 

"So tell me the story of your death," she asked him.

"Well, it all started when I was engaged to this hot little number named Christine. But she fell in love with this dude who like, lived under the operahouse where she sang. And they like, sang about the music of the night and passing the point of no return and sleeping buds bursting into bloom and other inappropriate things. But then he tried to like, Punjab me or some shit, so she left him. Then we were gonna get married but then she decided that she thought my lavender shirts looked stupid and that I couldn't sing worth crap so she left me and entered a common-law marriage with the other dude."

"…So how did you die?"

"A pink elephant fell on top of me. But not before he apologized and offered to take tea with me on Wednesday. That callous bastard."

Mary Jane was stunned.

"Oh, by the way, I can't see you next week because I've got a date with Dollar."

Now she was hurt. Who was this Dollar woman?

"Who's that?"

"My dollar right here." Raoul held up his beloved American dollar. Mary Jane looked at him, stunned even more. She wondered if she was dating a lunatic, and then mentally decided that it was obvious she was.

"Hey, are you gonna eat that?" Raoul asked, pointing to the baguette Mary Jane was clutching.

* * *


	5. The Angel of Sexy Music

_I hope y'all watched the Oscars a couple weeks or so ago, because Beyonce mercilessly butchered "Learn to Be Lonely". The meeting to bludgeon her and every single person who ever worked on/acted in/hell, saw and liked the Aviator to death is on Saturday._

_Yes, I watch Monty Python. I'm quite fond of it. And I'm glad y'all like RaoulXDollar. I'm sure they'll have some adorable foppish…paper…um…currency babies. Foppish paper currency babies. Feel free to wonder whether the dollar or Raoul will bear the children._

_Hey, have the insane Tobey fangirls from the Spider-Man section followed me here or something? Really, MJ's not THAT bad._

_I claim no responsibility for the comedy sheep. Go talk to Cleolinda._

_In other news, randomness will be cut down to make room for more scathing wit and observations on phanfics in general. I would apologize for the long absence, but I don't want to._

* * *

It was morning. Typically, Erik did not like mornings because they interrupted his all-night jam sessions with the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come and the Angel of Death, but this morning was special. 

For this morning, he had finished his rock opera.

There was only one way to celebrate this joyous event. He pushed away a bunch of the papers that covered his organ, and found a CD. He then inserted this CD into his radio (never mind that CDs and radios didn't exist until sometime in the 90s and not 1870), and turned the volume up to the last option, which read "OMG ELEVEN!111!11!5!".

The Opera Populaire was awakened this morning to the sounds of Gackt's "Vanilla" and its crazy brass backup.

Somewhere, a Japanese tourist who heard the lyrics screamed and died.

* * *

"Meg!"

Meg looked up in a hurry. Damn these original scene transitions, they always caught her off-guard.

"Meg, WHERE are all of the other ballet ra – er, dancers?" Madame Giry asked her daughter peevishly. Meg looked around, and noticed that the stage was completely devoid of squealing dancers dressed in droopy tulle tutus. This, Meg said inwardly, explained her lack of a searing headache and murderous glazed look.

"Um…I dunno. I guess Torgo and his not-at-all-sexually-named Master kidnapped them all and are now hoarding them all in Box Four which has a previously unmentioned secret tunnel that leads to an also previously unmentioned dungeon directly next to Erik's Dungeon O' Love." Meg finished lamely.

"How do you know his name?" Madame Giry asked, shocked.

"Mother, it's really freaking hard not to. Christine only shrieks his name every bloody night in rapture. You can't SLEEP here anymore," she said, annoyed. The mere thought of it infuriated poor, sleepless Meg.

"Well, anyways. We can't put on _Phantom of The Rock Opera _or the Phantom's rock opera without them," she said.

(Vega would just like to say that she has reached the bit on the movie CD where Erik and Christine kiss. We now return you to your regularly scheduled drivel.)

"Wait, which is which? Which one has the comedy sheep?"

"_Il Muto._"

"No, the one we were just doing the other day."

"Oh, _The Phantom of The Rock Opera_. Or…erm…maybe it was the Phantom's rock opera. I don't know. Don't ask such difficult questions."

Meg groaned.

"At any rate, would you mind fetching the dancers for me? We really can't put off the storyline any longer." Madame Giry said. Meg groaned again, realizing she had no choice but to do so.

Well, if she suffered then so did everybody else.

"Fine." Meg staggered off, knowing exactly where she was going. She wandered down to the dressing room, reaching a large door that had a star plastered on it. There was evidence of a small plaque underneath the star, as if the door decorator had no time to remove the name plaque.

Meg opened the door and went to the mirror in the back of the room. The mirror had a small Post-It on it, which read "When the rafters are a'rockin', don't come a'knockin," on it in disjointed, red handwriting. Meg found this note to be trite and meaningless, as the rafters had been rocking since Christine returned from her extraordinarily short stay with Raoul.

She passed through the mirror and walked down the slimy corridors. Meg wondered why the hell Christine never noticed the giant candelabras on the other side before meeting her Angel of Sex/Music. Christine was dense, but not that dense.

After completing the arduous trek through the Corridors of Icky, Meg poled herself across the lake to find Erik and Christine going at it again. Meg threw a stone at them, and they quickly sat up, looking extremely embarrassed.

"Christ, is that all you ever do?" Meg asked.

"No!" Christine said defensively. "Sometimes we make out, and sometimes we sing of inappropriate things and sometimes we stare into each others eyes, and sometimes we play table tennis!"

"And one time we went on a murderous rampage throughout L.A." Erik chimed in.

"No dear, that was that couple in the newspaper. Tom and Bellatrix."

"Oh."

Harry Potter fanfic readers quaked in fear at the prospect of a VoldyxBellatrix American now-days fic.

"Listen you guys, my mother's making me go get the ballet dancers from the clutches of a creepy cult weirdo who has weird facial hair and Torgo. And you're going to help."

"Might I help?" Binky asked, waddling in. He seemed to have finished _Les_ _Miserables_, for he looked significantly more haggard and glazed than his last appearance back in Chapter Three or so.

_Well,_ Meg thought,_ you're not being ignored anymore.

* * *

_

Meanwhile, the author typed furiously, having forgotten that a few people actually wanted her to update. As she typed, she remembered the afternoon yesterday…it was during math class…they had a substitute teacher who looked oddly like –

Vega cackled hysterically. Oh yes, this was a wonderful idea. No better way than to drive them all mad. She saved her progress on the current chapter, and immediately started a new one.

Being a mad scientist/writer was fun.

After this, she would go watch her beaten up VHS tape of the last two episodes of Mad Mad House. Mmm, vampires.


	6. Beautiful, Sunny Hell

Raoul fiercely glided into the classroom, grumbling angrily. Who came up with the bright idea to send him to substitute teach for a bratty eighth-grade math class?

The authoress waved at Raoul from the ending sequence back in Chapter 5.

The class was chatting rather loudly. Wonderful. He had heard nothing but horrors about this class. Apparently, through some freak coincidence, they were all gifted with magical powers. They were also intensely hormonal and enjoyed throwing things at people.

Well, perhaps Raoul could corrupt them even more, since he had just gotten back from a rather terrible EC fic where he was constantly evil and thus felt like corrupting.

Half of the class fell silent when Raoul walked to the whiteboard. This, Raoul was distressed and horrified to see, was because half the class were females wearing black hats with the letters "RxE" stitched onto them in white thread. They also wore black shirts with what appeared to be his and Erik's picture emblazoned on them in a heart.

"Who invited YOU people?" Raoul said angrily.

The one who seemed to be their leader spoke up. "Well, the Goddess of All POTO Phanfiction sent us here because she said we needed an edjamacation. And because we kept caroling 'Malchik Gay' in her ear while she was trying to be godly."

"And who," Raoul started, "is the Goddess of All POTO Phanfiction?"

"Satine."

Raoul blinked.

"But she's from an entirely different musical. And her name sounds like a soup cracker."

"Yes, well…" The leader fidgeted.

Raoul groaned. "Any other fanfiction groups I should know about in here?"

Two girls in the back slowly stood up. They too were wearing shirts, but they said "Christine iz t3h sux0rz" and had a crude picture of Christine with an axe over her head on them.

"And who might you two be?" he asked roughly.

"W-We're the ErikOC Club, sir…" one said quietly. Raoul was surprised.

"Why aren't there more of you? There's like, thousands, aren't there?"

"Yes, but when the Goddess came to get us, we all ran away. And…um… we were the slowest."

Raoul groaned much more, then grabbed a dry-erase marker from an undisclosed location.

"Alright, let's get started. Who knows what a pink elephant is, and how to kill one?"

Nobody raised their hand.

* * *

"Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair! Down we plunge – "

Meg whacked Erik in the back of the head.

"And no singing!"

"Sorry."

Christine giggled as Erik rubbed the back of his head. They were traveling down the slimy corridor that connected Box Four with the previously unmentioned Dungeon O' Secrecy. Seeing as the last person who had used it was a female Erik Mary-Sue who only went down once to shag some loser masquerading as Erik, it was filthy.

"How do you know this Master person is down here?" Erik asked.

"Well, it's obvious." Meg said huffily.

"She's right, Erik. If you don't know, we're not telling you." Christine giggled again, as Erik looked angry and confused.

"But – wah – adda – wibba - " Erik stuttered.

"Shush, Erik. Something's coming." Meg whispered. There was a heavy thudding coming down the hallway. She crouched down behind a thick stone column, and motioned for them and the previously unnoticed Binky to imitate her. Erik and Christine managed well, but seeing as Binky was extremely large and rather fat, he had to masquerade as a water fountain. Luckily, Binky was part camel and could spit water at will.

The heavy thudding grew louder, and a light grew closer to the corridor. A man emerged from the dark hallways, clutching a lantern. He was rather short, despite the thick black platform boots that pushed his height up a good 5 inches. He had long black hair, pale skin, and shining blue eyes. He was also (to Meg and Christine's girlish delight) shirtless.

"Who is it? Gina, if you're going to try to kill me again…" he started, but was interrupted by a young woman coming down and tapping him on the shoulder. She was the same height, but quite a bit younger. She had shoulder-length blonde hair with bangs, and green eyes covered by oval eyeglasses that were crooked. She was dressed in a long red Oriental-style silk robe. The man jumped slightly, and Meg stifled a giggle.

"What is it? Is it the Gina clones again? Should I get the flail?" she asked worriedly.

"I don't know…I don't see anything…" he responded in a whisper. The man walked down the corridor, reaching Binky. The pink elephant began to sweat profusely, but this went unnoticed by the man.

"What is it?"

"Just a pink elephant fountain," he responded.

"Oh, alright then."

"Let's go back to bed."

"Yeah, I'm sleepy."

Meg and Christine exchanged a glance with each other, and watched as the couple went back down the hallway. As soon as they were out of sight, the two girls burst into giggles. Erik looked at them scoldingly.

"Wasn't that the authoress?" he asked.

"No, no, of course not. She's far too cultured and shit to do an SI." Christine said, looking up at their omnipresent writer, expecting an answer.

The authoress coughed.

"Erm…yeah. Too…cultured," she said nervously, and hastily changed the subject.

"Let's continue." Binky said, and everybody concurred.

They walked down the slimy passageways, until halfway through, Erik and Christine stopped.

"What is it?" Meg asked, turning around.

"_Come what may! Come what may! I will love you, until my dying day! Come what may! Come what may! I will love you, until my dying day!" _they sang, causing Meg and poor, long-suffering Binky to stare at them.

"What was THAT all about?" Meg asked.

"Quota." Christine replied promptly.

"Oh."

And they continued onward. Along the way, they had several misadventures with some Martians, a go-go dancer, and Hamlet that weren't really worth describing. Well, except for the Hamlet bit, where they just waited for Hamlet to die of air deprivation during one of his long soliloquies.

"What a horrible adventure with that ham demon." Meg said nonchalantly. The other three nodded in agreement.

"Now what?" Binky asked.

"We camp. I'm bloody tired." With that, Meg whipped out 2 tents, a campfire, 4 sleeping bags (one overlarge for Binky), and some yummy, yummy campfire sausages.

Everybody stared at Meg.

"How the hell did you DO that?" Erik asked, incredulous.

"I don't know." Meg shrugged. Everyone accepted this answer, and started making sausages.


	7. The Lurking Torgo

_Hey, ebullibody. Welcome to the seventh installment of everyone's favorite drivel. A few review reponses today. I didn't do a lot, though._

_**Misty Breyer**: Um, no, that wasn't Geracula. Shirtless ≠ Gerry. The dude is from the greatest crappy show in the world: Mad Mad House. (I mentioned it at the end of Chapter 5.) It was a reality show in which 10 ordinary bigots are put in a house with 5 people living "alternate lifestyles". And boy, are they alternate. There was a voodoo priestess, a naturist (see: nudist), a modern primitive (no clue what that is, but he was like a walking piercing gallery with tattoos and no shirt), a Pagan who seemed to think that she was a Wiccan, and a vampire. The vampire is quite possibly the HOTTEST BEING IN ALL OF THE UNIVERSE. Seriously, go look him up on Google._

_**Lookpastthemask**: Somehow, I seriously doubt you can get all the references, because there are a lot of unobvious ones. Lemme see if I can find one …in Chapter 5, Meg mentions a "Dungeon o' Love", which is a reference to that song "Jungle of Love". Oh, and the Corridors of Icky are a reference to the Corridors of Power. I should probably do a reference guide later when I finally finish this crap._

While the author was doing review responses and making no headway, the ballet rats were having a little conversation about something whilst being chained to a wall.

"I disagree, I think he _was_ addicted to cold medicine."

"What, like Daniel Baldwin?" Jammes said, scathingly.

"No, he was addicted to painkillers, Jammes." Sorelli interrupted.

_Whoa, that was weird. Reality and fantasy just totally smashed into each other. Of course, I have been known to confuse the line between them often. It's a thing._

"Hey, Ms. Authoress?" Jammes said, timidly.

_I told you to call me Mrs. Henrie._

"Um…right. Mrs. Henrie, would you please write out our chains? Torgo just gave us a shitload of reality TV show DVDs to watch, and they're rather bad." Jammes said.

_Hm…nah. I rather like shitty reality television. Easier to mock, ya know? And you were talking about Daniel Baldwin a second ago, which means you're watching Celebrity Fit Club. That show is awesome._

"But - "

_Anyways, back to the review responses._

_**Baffled Seraph**: Thanks much. It's likely that Binky is the only one of his kind, since he was an only child. Maybe someday I'll write a Binky fic on fictionpress for you all to enjoy, and then an RxD fic since everybody likes that for some reason. Oh, and you know what's funny? I haven't even SEEN Moulin Rouge. And yet somehow, I own the original soundtrack. I'm weird like that._

_On another note, I'm looking for a beta for this and future stories of mine. You need good spelling & grammar skills, and a decent-sized vocabulary. It would help if you can make chocolate appear with your mind. No Gina clones accepted! Gina clones BAAD!_

_Anyways, on to the proper story. My goal for this trash is to eventually get more reviews than my other fic Paine: A Warrior's Story. To date, it has 73. SO GO REVIEW RIGHT NOW! Don't even bother reading this chapter, just go and review._

_Oh, and you know what? All I Ask of You is an awesome song. If it weren't an RC song (I LOATHE RC), then it would be even more awesome. Stupid RC. You don't need to write RC fluff because you already have ENOUGH RC in all the forms of canon._

_ONE MORE THING! I just realized that technically, Susan Kay is a fanfiction writer. I declare her the goddess of fanfiction._

Meanwhile, the ballet rats were still watching crappy reality television, interspersed with viewings of the MSTed version of _Manos: The Hands of Fate_ (which had been included by Torgo out of sheer vanity). Most of the ballet rats quite enjoyed this, but La Sorelli had completely missed the point of the show.

"Why won't those three dudes in the corner shut up? I want to watch the movie!" she cried. All the ballet rats shushed her, and resumed laughing at Torgo's knees and swooning over Joel's hotness.

"But this is a good movie! I want to see what happens between Torgo and Maggie!" Sorelli pouted.

"Sorelli. Since Torgo is here and lacks a Maggie, and is lusting after our dear Meg, then it's obvious how it turns out," a nameless ballet rat yelled from the other side of the room.

"Hey, speaking of which, where is Meg?" another ballet rat asked. "Isn't she supposed to save us sometime soon?"

"Yeah, she's coming. My sixth sense or some crap says so." Jammes said.

* * *

"These are really good sausages." Meg said.

"Let's stay here forever and eat sausages." Christine replied.

Erik began to hit his head on the ground in despair and wished he had some morphine.

* * *

The author groaned. She had just tried to start a serious EC fluff piece, and failed miserably. Then, she realized that the author's notes were longer than the actual story so far.

The author sobbed hysterically.

* * *

In another part of the opera that will not be named in order to give it an air of mystery, two hooded figures were having a nice little chat. They were standing in front of a glowing screen.

_"And so you see, Master…the little gadget here moves around and projects an image onto this glass screen shaped like an arrow."_

_"Awesome. What happens when I push this button?"_

_"No, wai – "_

The light emanating from the screen disappeared.

_"Master, you broke the computer."_

_"Whatever. Torgo, I've seen you following that short blonde ballet rat, Meg."_

_"Was not."_

_"Of course you were, don't be stupid. Now look, remember our little talk? You don't get a wife. I get all the wives. You are to walk around and talk in your sticky-caps voice so Joel and the bots can make fun of you."_

_"Yeah, look about that, man, I'm sick of that."_

_"Too bad. Did you finish the dress?"_

_"No, Master. No, I did not. I burned the dress and used the ashes to make Meg a nice pumice stone for use in exfoliation using the power of my mind and a pressure cooker. And I am going to marry her and have lots of adorable satyr babies with her. Cause, y'know, I can."_

_"You have failed me, Torgo. For this, you must die."_

_"Another thing. I am not going to die."_

The first figure raised a glowy staff of spooky doom. But then, in a strange twist of fate, the second figure (now revealed to be Torgo, for those who are not quick on the uptake) turned into Dracula from Dracula 2000 and ate the first figure whole.

"Guess it's time for me to kidnap Meg, Erik-style," he said to nobody in particular. "But first…I WATCH SURVIVOR!"

He transformed back into his normal, loveable, big-kneed satyr form, and went to watch that crazy dope that was all by herself dig herself deeper and deeper.

* * *

Back at the camp, Meg was reflecting on stuff. We shall soon find out what it is she is reflecting on…in a minute.

Any minute now, we'll find out.

Dammit, get out here. You guys are like friggin' rabbits

Christine randomly appeared, looking as if she was just shoved forcefully out of the arms of her hot Angel of Sex and into Meg's presence to deliver some comical lines. Which she was.

"Christine," Meg started, as Christine attempted to straighten her chemise and various petticoats, "how do you know when you're madly in love? Because I think it might be the sausages this time."

Christine stopped for a minute, and thought. Watching Christine think was very funny, because she had the tendency to do that thing where you put your chin in between your thumb and index finger and look up as if you were experiencing a rather tedious flashback.

"Well, you get all giggly around him. And your heart suddenly starts thudding like a bass drum. And when he sings you accidentally start singing 'I Touch Myself' by that redhead. And when he touches you it feels like you're on fire and the only way to put it out is to have wild, passionate sex."

"But Torgo doesn't sin - "

Christine was not listening to Meg at this point. Her eyes had gone glassy, and her voice began to sound like Raoul's when he had been on the business end of the Punjab lasso.

"And every time you see an EOW fic you want to kill the author using their own small intestine to choke them with! And if you do not have sex every waking moment _the world as we know it will end_ - "

Christine stopped, and began to twitch violently. She ran away back to her and Erik's tent, and soon the wonderful sounds of Queen's "One Year of Love" floated through the passageway.

Well, it was all for the sake of the Earth, Meg thought.

She dipped her toes into a randomly appearing spring and began to sing a random song to herself. Oddly enough, it was Masquerade. She certainly was not very good, but at least people were not throwing record deals at her in a pitiful attempt to milk her hilarious badness for all it was WILLIAM HUNG worth.

Ahem. That was supposed to be more subtle.

(an edit later)

…**milk her hilarious badness for all it was **williamhung **worth**.

"You sing very nicely," said a voice from behind her. Meg turned around, and saw Binky. He looked strangely less pink and elephanty.

"Hey, Binky." Meg said nonchalantly.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Binky asked, worried.

"How do you know anything's wrong?"

"You're staring off into space like there's an enormous mouse on the other side of this pond," he responded.

"It's a spring."

"Same thing."

"Well," Meg began, "I think I'm in love with an insane satyr. My best friend and I never talk anymore because she's always banging her new boyfriend, and now she's going to have a baby in like, a week."

"But I believe she only got pregnant back in Chapter 1 or 2 or something." Binky interrupted.

"Yeah, well Christine's womb is magical. And now, I'm on a magical quest to free all the other ballerinas who I don't even _like_ that much." Meg finished.

"Well, if we don't save them then we have no plot. It's for the sake of the story. You said so yourself." Binky pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. But it was so nice back when we were just ranting about phanfiction and such."

"By the way, the authoress would like me to tell you to be very afraid because another shipping is coming next chapter." Binky said.

Meg gaped.

She began to scream.


	8. Elephant Love Medley

"I thought you'd all like to know I'm feeling very depressed."

The group of authors looked up at the haggard Vega.

"I have just spent the last – " Vega checked her watch. " - several hours reading entries from that morbidity contest that seems to be going on at another site, and I have just realized that I am incredibly disturbed because I laughed at nearly all of them. And you know, not one – not _one_ – was even vaguely EC."

"Were there any RC fics?" Mirian asked hopefully.

"What? No, no…you know how I feel about RC." Vega responded, slightly annoyed. "Where's Andrea?"

"Staring at An Eternity of This, refreshing the page constantly," said Ami, the EM shipper, who was rapidly writing chapters on her laptop. Vega had always loved that laptop. It wasn't made of that cheap plastic stuff they used on the teacher's laptops at school that they passed off as computers. It was the good, tough, shiny metal kind. Plus, it was a bright sapphire blue with a trackball. Trackballs were freaking awesome.

"Hey, what are you writing?" Vega asked, looking at the laptop screen.

"Meg is about to help Erik kill the Spineless One before they get married." Ami said with a hint of contempt.

"Who, Erik and Meg or Erik and Christine?" Vega asked. Ami gasped, and threw a brick at Vega's head.

"_NEVER SPEAK THE SPINELESS ONE'S NAME!_" Ami shrieked. Vega ducked the brick, and attempted to calm Ami down with promises of bringing her to meet the author of that Latin mass EM thing she seemed to like so much.

"Ami, dear, I don't fly into a rage when somebody says Erik's name." Mirian pointed out. Ami did not listen however, and returned to typing hysterically. Vega sighed.

"Thank god all EM shippers aren't like that," she said. "Hey look Mirian, could you tell Andrea that she's a loser and she sucks and nobody likes her ship today? I've got to go check up on Meg and the others in my phic and make sure they haven't started another orgy. That took forever to fix the last time. And then I have to go fight the Gina Clones in Germany."

"Of course, dear," said Mirian absentmindedly.

"Thanks, man. Lemme just get my coat – " But as soon as Vega opened the door, she was greeted with an angry hiss from the author inside the closet.

"Oh, sorry Christin…a." Vega said apologetically. Christina growled in a decisively Gollum-like manner.

"The EC ssshipper wantses us to abandon our ssshrine to Erik and Colin'sss love…but the EC ssshipper ignores the fact that Christine left Erik…we laughsss at her, yesss…"

Vega's eye twitched at the mention of the Horrible Bad No Good Rotten Leaving Scene, but then remembered that Christina was legally insane and believed that Colin Mochrie and Erik were in love, so decided not to slay her for mentioning it. Logic. Pfft. Must everybody bring that trivial matter up?

"Of course not, dear…Erik/Colin is a perfectly plausible canon possibility." Vega said cautiously.

"What doessss the EC ssshipper want, we wondersss?…" Christina whispered to her shrine, which was lit with votive candles and covered with silk black drapes.

"I just came to get my coat." Vega said, hoping her voice sounded soothing. Apparently it wasn't, for Christina then lashed out and attacked her. Vega cried out, and began to try and slam the door. Eventually she succeeded, and leaned against the door panting.

"I thought she was still being kept in the bathroom!" Vega cried.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot to tell you." Ami said, as she continued typing.

"How do you forget after I said that I was going to get my coat?" Vega said angrily.

* * *

"What? _Meg?_" Erik said, incredulously.

"Yes." Binky nodded sadly.

"But you're an ELEPHANT. That's digusting." Erik said dismissively.

"Actually, due to a strange and stupid plot twist, I'm under a curse that turned me into a pink elephant. In order to break said curse, I must save the world 3 times in succession and then proclaim my love for all things EC. My old mistress was a sorceress."

There was a long pause.

"That – is the WORST plot twist ever conceived." Erik spat out. "I mean, the author has been implying that you're a real pink elephant the whole damn phic! And now, for no reason other than she thinks Binky needs more love, she's shipping you and Meg and making you a damn human so it's not bestiality!"

_I'm sorry._

Erik's eye twitched. He grabbed a stale crumpet and threw it at the author's physical manifestation.

"I QUIT!" he shouted, and began to march out of the tent, grabbing Christine and carrying her with him.

"Where are we going?" Christine asked innocently.

"We're quitting the phic, dear." Erik said.

"Oh, okay." Christine wrapped her arms around Erik's neck and fell asleep. It was so adorable that EC shippers went 'awww' and drew some fanart of this scene. Unfortunately, the author was rather fond of the Erik and Christine bits, so she sealed them up in a brick room with a rabid cowplant.

_Yeah, um, look, about that. You can't really quit, cause you're the last vestiges of __canon__ in this pitiful, pitiful story. And plus, if you look in your contracts under the Author's Terms section, you'll see that in return for Erik getting lots of hot ECness and Christine getting a dead Raoul, I will receive yours souls. So, um, technically I own you._

"You do not. Gaston Leroux owns us." Erik quipped.

_Owned. As in past tense. As in dead._

"He's not dead, he's resting." Christine murmured sleepily.

_Whatev. The point is that if you don't listen to me and stay in the story, I'll bring Raoul back from his __honeymoon__ with Dollar, force him into a __divorce__, and marry him off to Christine. Oh, and then Meg will die a horrible, horrible death. You know, for kicks._

Erik gaped. Christine looked mildly displeased, but then fell asleep again. The cowplant stuck out its cake tongue. Some mentally disturbed ER shippers in the distance shouted that Erik really did love Raoul; he was just insane and couldn't express it. The odd dog barked.

Erik cursed loudly, prompting an annoyed glance from Christine.

"Fine, we'll stay. But no more foolish plot twists, you understand?"

_I promise_, lied the author.

* * *

Meg meanwhile was eating raw campfire sausages in a fit of existentialism. She hated her life, hated this stupid world-saving journey, and she hated being love with a bloody satyr. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, _DAMMIT!_

She threw a sausage into the lake angrily. Stupid, stupid, stupid fu –

Meg's world went black. She blinked, and realized her eyes were still open. Somebody had stuffed her in a sack!

Back when Meg was just a nondescript ballerina, her mother had taught the dance troupe about what to do if somebody had stuffed them into a sack and taken them away from the Operahouse. The first thing to do was to attempt to kick the attacker in the knee. If that failed, they were to skip straight to Step 9 – screaming like a banshee. Meg had been very good at this, and often skipped the other 8 steps entirely in favor of screaming.

This is what she did.

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

* * *

Christine's head snapped up. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything." Erik said, twirling a lock of her hair with his fingers. Christine shook her hair away.

"Well, I heard Meg screaming. Let go, Erik." She gently pushed him away and stood up. Erik looked disappointed.

"Meg's fine, she's probably only realizing that I stole her sausages." Erik said convincingly. Christine looked at him for a moment, then went to leave the tent.

"Well, I'm going to check on her."

"She's fine!"

"She probably is, but I'm going to check anyways." Erik tried to grab Christine by her skirts to pull her back in, but he had poorly timed this and thus fell down to the ground. Erik grumbled in annoyance, and brushed the dirt off.

"Meg!" Christine called. "Meg, are you okay, sweetie?" She looked around the spring and the second tent, but found nothing. She wandered a bit farther off, becoming more and more worried.

After searching the entire perimeter of the campsite, Christine ran in a panic back to the tent.

"Erik! Meg's gone!"


	9. HOT PHANTOM SEX

_Out of sheer boredom, I am going to list all my works in progress that have not been published here. It's a good start so I can think of what to write. Effil, effil writer's block. This crap is why I have not updated this ALL FREAKING SUMMER._

_1. Box 5, a multi-chaptered thing about the ALW story if Erik didn't kill Buquet. Flaming, loudly supported EC. A true AU where things actually happen differently and Erik and Christine don't sing All I Ask Of You on the roof together. That always bugged me, because it's totally uncreative and passé._

_2. A parody of the POTO movie where the characters can only speak one word. Inspired by lots and lots of Whose Line. Probably going to have an EC slant. It won't be published here if I finish it because it's in script format._

_3. A Raoul angst one-shot (probably) about Raoul's thoughts and feelings after Christine leaves him for everybody's favorite Phantom. No bashing. EC obviously, but maybe ROW. I don't mind Raoul that much._

_4. That Raoul/Dollar thing I mentioned awhile back. (I did actually start it on a lark.)_

_5. A ROW fic with some EC fluff piece set on Valentine's Day. It's fairly AU._

_6. An EC fluff phic where Christine attempts to bake something for her teacher. She fails miserably, but it's all fluffy and 'awww' anyways. Somehow also set on Valentine's Day._

_7. An alt-ending, Meg-centric multi-chaptered phic about how she deals with the double suicide of the mysterious Phantom and her best friend Christine. Also tells how she met the man she is supposed to have married in Leroux's prolouge. Very dark, MOC (the O stands for Other in this case, cause he's not really original, it's like when people give Philippe a personality) and some RM with a little EC at the beginning. I really like Meg. This is the most likely to be published._

_8. A weird humorous mystery piece about the children of some of the people from POTO. It's hard to explain. Shippings are a secret. :P The humor style is quite different than French Chicks, just a warning._

_9. Last but not least, a fluff phic where Erik has met another woman, but realizes that his heart could never truly lie with her. Not really EOC because of the ending I have planned. Don't worry; Erik isn't the one who is left with a broken heart._

_10. Children of Satan, the only one up here that's on the site. Erik has been granted a twin sister who I hope will not turn into a Mary Sue. I'm trying very hard to give her a distinct personality and non-sympathetic flaws. For example, she's crazy as a loon. Remember kids, being too nice is not an actual flaw!_

_Tell me which one you'd like to see. Feel free to pick more than one._

_And also, I'd like to tell you all that the people at thephantomsopera are immature and mean. SPAM THEM! No, no, I'm kidding. That would be hypocritical._

>

"Thought you said Meg was going to rescue us." Sorelli said angrily. Little Jammes shrugged.

"You honestly believed me?" she asked incredulously.

Meg grumbled in the corner. "I want some chocolate cake. And maybe a Black Angus sampler platter. And some nachos." She began to gnaw on her chains. "Hey, these taste kinda chocolaty."

"Really?" Jammes asked. She licked her chains, then promptly retched violently.

"No, I was just screwing with you." Meg said calmly. "It actually tastes like shit."

"I _noticed._" said Jammes, irritated. She shook her chains in a feeble, half-hearted attempt to break them. Failing that, she shouted as loud as her lungs would allow, which was fairly loud indeed, second only to Meg's inhuman ability to hit tones dogs could hear. Years of screaming that the Opera Ghost was going to kill them all tends to give you good training in that area.

"TORGO! WE'RE HUNGRY!" Sorelli and the other ballerinas winced, but Meg continued to grumble about wanting food. Torgo came running in, panting heavily and clutching a spatula.

"WHAT? I am _TRYING_ to bake you a soufflé!" he said angrily.

"We changed our mind." Jammes said airily.

"What? WHAT?" asked Torgo furiously.

"We want some chocolate cake now. And maybe a few Double Bacon Beezleburgers." Sorelli said.

"None of those for me, those things decrease Mysticality and I'm a Pastamancer." Meg said. "I'll have a couple salty dogs."

"I don't know what those are!" Torgo cried, on the verge of tearing his hair out. The ballet rats did not listen, but instead began to discuss the Kingdom of Loathing.

"I have like, a zillion meat." Jammes bragged. "And plus I've ascended 10 times."

"I'VE ascended 11." Sorelli shot back.

"I imagine you're a Disco Bandit, then?" Jammes said airily.

"Oh, yes. I can't IMAGINE being something as monstrous as a _Sauceror._" Sorelli replied.

Meg glared at them both. "What the bloody hell is wrong with not being a Disco Bandit? They can't even _do _anything! I mean, sure they can make some overrated cocktails that sell for too much, but god! What the bloody hell is great about being moxious?"

"It means you're cool. And we aren't cool in our regular lives, so the only way to be so is by joining an online game and making everybody else feel horrible!" Jammes yelled. "I would have thought that was obvious!"

Meg looked to Torgo. "Dear, could you kill her?"

Torgo obliged Meg and ate Jammes whole.

"Thanks, love." Meg said sweetly. Torgo blushed.

>

"I got into an argument with an RC shipper today." Vega said cheerfully. Mirian sighed.

"You've been on that site again. Shouldn't you be updating?" she asked. "And I really don't see why you don't like RC. It's so _romantic_."

Vega grumbled in response, opening the new chapter and beginning to type.

"RC sucks, Mirian. Raoul is a dirty, dirty fophead." Vega said, not looking at her.

"Oh, you're just mad because Christine ran off with - " Mirian was cut off by Vega taping her mouth shut.

"It never happened, dammit! I can't hear you!"

>

"Look, Meg probably just wandered off - "

"Dammit, Erik! Meg doesn't just wander off, she's smarter than that!" Christine yelled as she dismantled the campsite. Erik followed closely behind her, trying to convince her Meg was all right.

"Maybe she just - "

"NO!"

Erik turned to Binky and glared at him. "This is all your fault."

Binky looked hurt. "What did I do?"

"You didn't stay with Meg. If you had, then Meg wouldn't have been kidnapped."

"Oh, go eat your vegetables!" Binky shouted uncharacteristically. Erik looked at him stoically, then stalked off after Christine. Binky sank down onto the ground and sulked.

>

"No no no no, that's not right, Miranda!" Raoul cried. "The sword is held like…this!" Raoul rearranged the young girl's hands on the sword. "The horrible, horrible pink elephants will be gone before you even nick them!"

Miranda looked pained. "But it's heavy!"

Raoul sighed. "Then go over with Rena, the Shipper Princess and learn the crossbow! I have to train like, 20 teenagers how to kill pink elephants and also evil things!" Miranda whimpered, but obeyed.

Raoul took this opportunity to look to the sky and deliver a soliloquy.

"Someday, Binky the Pink Elephant…I will find you, and my army of crazy, magically-gifted teenagers will kill you dead! My death shall be avenged! No more will I be laughed at the Semi-Annual Killed-Off Characters Convention, because I wasn't killed by a mad gunman or one of the main characters! REVENGE! REVEEEEENGE!" He was interrupted by somebody hitting him on the head with a rock.

"Ow! Who the f - " Raoul yelled, turning around.

"Language, fop-for-brains." Vega said. It was the authoress and two of her shipper friends. One was sobbing hysterically, and the other was glaring at Vega.

"I've told you a thousand times, Vega. He is NOT a fop!" Mirian shouted. Vega crossed her arms and entirely ignored Mirian.

"You're just mad because you know Christine loved Raoul!" she shouted again. Vega gasped and slapped Mirian.

"That's BULL! Christine was in love with Erik, and you know it!"

"CHRISTINE IS A STUPIDHEAD!" the shipper known as Andrea shouted over the other arguing shippers. This caused Vega & Mirian to cease their feud & glare at her. Then, Vega backhanded her across the head, and Mirian shoved her into a previously unmentioned sack.

"Sorry, she's stupid," said Mirian calmly, as if nothing had happened. Vega took the sack from her with a silent word of thanks and pushed it behind a corner.

"What do you people want?" asked Raoul angrily. "I have work to do, training all these teenagers to kill pink elephants."

"But what about Erik? Don't you want to kill Erik?" asked Mirian quickly. Raoul looked at her with an expression of surprise.

"Why would I want to kill Erik? He didn't do anything," he said. Vega smirked.

"Told you so," she said smugly.

"He's just saying that because you made him." Mirian said, unscathed.

"Whatever," said Vega. "We're here to bring you to help defeat Torgo with your army of adolescent warriors. And also – what the hell?"

Three girls had come up to them. One was rather tall, and wearing a ballet dress from the Opera Populairé with a long pretty face and her mousy brown hair in a ponytail. The second looked distinctly like Emma Watson, and had curly blonde hair with blue eyes. The third girl was truly a spectacle. She was extremely small and skinny, & had enormous shining black eyes & long black hair that nearly reached her knees. In Vega's opinion, she looked like a very large chibi.

"Monsieur de Elephantslayer?" the Emma Watson girl asked innocently.

"Yes, yes, what is it, girl?" Raoul asked impatiently.

"I – I just wanted to know if you saw Case anywhere," she said nervously. Raoul pointed dismissively in the direction of a perfectly normal boy with brown hair and brown eyes who still looked distinctively gay. The girl squealed and ran over.

"Who are you? Are you here to murder the managers, because they're fucking EVIL!" the small girl said very fast. Vega stared.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked.

"My name's Eris, and I'm a ballerina at the Operahouse, and that's Dagmara," she gestured to the tall girl who watched the Emma Watson girl with bemused interest "and that's Èlodie, and she's my best friend in the whole world…"

Here, Eris took a deep breath.

"…and we're here to learn how to stab things because Monsieur Raoul de Elephantslayer says that the pink elephants are everywhere and want us dead!" she finished.

"Why do they call you de Elephantslayer?" Mirian asked.

"Because I changed my name." Raoul said proudly. Mirian stared, as Vega began to giggle hysterically.

"There's another Raoul, but he's such an asshole, he drinks all the time and beats his pregnant wife." Eris continued.

"Yes, that Raoul has no personality whatsoever and acts like a child." Raoul said, & nodded.

"This is not the Raoul I know and love," grumbled Mirian.

"Shut up, Mirian," said Vega. "Eris, aren't you the girl in my AU story somewhere else?"

"No, I'm a different Eris. You may call me Different Eris, if you wish." Eris said.

"Okay then, Different Eris. What was I saying, Mirian?" Vega asked.

"You were talking about how you needed their help to kill evil things," said Mirian in a strained voice.

"Right, right, right. We do. So, come on." Vega then grabbed Raoul by the wrist, and began to pull him away. Mirian picked up the sack with Andrea inside and followed her, grumbling.

"WAIT!" somebody yelled. Vega, Mirian and Raoul all turned around.

"What?" asked Vega.

"The chapter title said there would be hot Phantom sex!" the person shouted.

"Oh, that? Yeah, I lied about that. Bye." They all walked out.


End file.
